Broken Mirror
by Alydia Rackham
Summary: Dark Knight/Smallville crossover, a semi-sequel to "Mirror". The night the Joker tears Gotham apart, Lex Luthor prepares himself for anything---except the visitor who comes asking for his help. No slash.
1. Chapter 1

_This follows the details and plot history of "Mirror," and can be considered as a sequel--except the rebuilding of Wayne Manor--and is set in season 5 of Smallville. Okay, got that straight? :D I hope you enjoy! Please review!_

VVVVVVVVVVV

Broken Mirror

Lex Luthor woke up at the sound of a powerful engine roaring up into his drive. He jerked into a sitting position, shooting a glance at the clock. It was near five in the morning. His heartbeat accelerated, and he slid out of bed, his feet soundlessly hitting the floor. His hand wandered toward his dark bedside table, his fingers closing around the cold metal of a handgun. He he slipped toward his room and out his door, his gaze darting up and down the dim hall. He knew his security would be on top of it--but having been double-crossed more than once by his own employees, he preferred to largely take care of himself. Especially tonight.

All evening, he had been peppered with information from the radio, television and telephone calls about the disaster in Gotham City--about the deranged psychopath known only as the "Joker," who had managed to turn it from merely a city infested with crime and corruption to a literal hell on earth.

And Lex had also heard of the Joker's resistance: the caped crusader called Batman, and that he could quite possibly be just as dangerous and as insane as the Joker himself--and he was on the loose. Needless to say, Lex's sleep hadn't exactly been peaceful.

He heard footsteps downstairs, and hurried down the steps himself.

"Hold it, James," he commanded when one of his men made for the door.

"But sir--"

"I said hold it," Lex snapped. He hit the main floor and strode toward the door. He peered through the window, but could not see much--not even car lights. Swallowing and clenching his jaw, Lex opened the door. It squeaked on its hinges.

"Hello?" he called, keeping his voice strong. His voice echoed over the lawn. "Who's out there?"

No one answered. Then, Lex heard the sound of a body thudding to the ground. His eyes flashed.

"James--flashlight." He reached behind him, not taking his eyes from the darkness outside. The cold handle of a flashlight slapped into his palm. He took it, switched it on and trotted out into the darkness. The beam of the light he held bounced along the driveway as he ran.

He slowed. The beam caught a long vehicle that had a massive wheel at each end. As he looked at it longer, it appeared to be a thick, muscular motorcycle unlike any he had ever seen. It was riddled with dents and bullet holes. Increasingly alarmed, he hurried around it--then jerked to a halt.

Lying there in the white halo of Lex's flashlight was a broad-shouldered figure dressed entirely in black. He wore a long, black cape that rippled over the ground like obsidian water. The man lay on his side, his back to Lex, but Lex could see that he wore a strange helmet that seemed to bear upward-pointing horns or ears.

Quickly, Lex knelt down and reached out to grab the man's shoulder. The material beneath his fingers felt like heavy plastic, or some sort of kevlar. Swallowing, Lex shook him.

"Hey," He tightened his grip. There was no response. He was injured. Scooting closer, Lex gently tugged on that shoulder until the man flopped limply over onto his back. Lex stared. The man wore an animal-like mask, an entire suit of black kevlar and an intricate utility belt. Squinting, Lex reached out to touch him, and his hand met warm liquid. Jerking his hand back and shining his light on it, he saw that his fingers were covered in blood. Going cold, Lex gazed back down at the bleeding chest piece, the center of which bore the body and outstretched wings of a fearsome flying beast--the symbol of Gotham's Dark Knight.

Batman.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

"Harold! James!" Lex called, his throat tight. "Get over here. Jack, are you back there somewhere?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Call my doctor."

"Yes, sir."

Lex didn't move from the masked man's side. Instead, he came even closer and pressed his hand down hard over the wound. The Batman groaned. Lex blinked, and then his eyes narrowed as a dart of strange suspicion shot down through his chest. His blood went cold. Footsteps pounded behind them, flashlights bounced, and his two security guards came to a halt near the stranger's head.

"Sir, it's--"

"Yeah."

"Shall we call the--"

"No."

"But--"

"I said no!" Lex shouted. "Not yet, anyway. He's bleeding badly." Lex ran his eyes over the bat suit. "Even if he is insane, I'd rather not have Gotham's knight dying on my watch."

"Yes, sir."

"Get him up."

Harold and James bent down, one at the stranger's head, the other at his feet.

"Easy," Lex reminded them as they hefted him up. Lex stood up with them, keeping his hand where it was. Hurriedly, they shuffled him toward the entrance, kicked the already-ajar door open with a bang and hustled him inside.

"The downstairs guest room will be fine," Lex panted as they trotted down the hall. James, walking backward, managed to open the door with his elbow, and they dragged the stranger inside. Carefully, they laid him on the thick comforter, easing his helmed head down onto the feather pillows.

"Now go see where the doctor is, and go pick him up if you have to," Lex commanded, sitting down on the edge of the bed, increasing his pressure on the wound. "And turn on the lights."

Quickly, his security departed, flicking the switch that controlled the two bedside lamps and one standing lamp in the corner. The room was halfway illuminated, leaving dark shadows in the corners but giving soft light to the men near the bed.

Lex left his hand where it was, fighting the flow of blood, but when the Batman turned his head slightly, and his nearly black eyes met Lex's, Lex hardened his expression.

"Who are you? Why did you come here?" he demanded.

"I'm sorry, Lex," the stranger rasped in a deep, shaking voice, turning his head back away from him. "I...would never do anything to compromise you like this unless I...unless I had nowhere else to go." The Batman reached up and started to struggle with his mask, but his gloved hands were weak, and they slipped.

"You want that off?" Lex realized.

"Yeah," the Batman muttered.

"May I?" Lex asked. Batman grunted, and so Lex reached up with his right hand and helped to pry off the helmet, his heartbeat thundering. Finally, the helmet pulled off and tumbled onto the covers. The young man beneath fell back onto the pillows, gasping. His chiseled, handsome, rugged face was covered in sweat, his black eyebrows twisted in pain, and his dark, shining eyes furtively searched the ceiling. His throat muscles worked as he struggled to breathe, and his dark hair was mussed. Lex's heart thudded so hard it hurt.

"Bruce!" he cried, grabbing his friend's shoulder, a choking cocktail of astonishment and panic racing through him. "You..._you're_..."

Bruce squeezed his eyes shut.

"Never would have guessed, huh Lex?" he managed, glancing wryly sideways at him through half-closed eyelids. "That your old friend and a billionaire playboy would spend his nights jumping off skyscrapers and stopping bullets?" His face suddenly spasmed and he choked, his head straining backward, his fists clenching. Lex reflexively pressed down harder, and then glanced down at his hand. It was covered in blood, and the wound was right beneath Bruce's left lung. Lex's mouth twisted.

"Well, I've always known you were a man of many talents."

Bruce gave him a half smile, though new sweat broke out on his forehead--a familiar action that stilled Lex, for a smile showed that Bruce was used to this kind of pain. Bruce swallowed dryly.

"So...I guess you're wanting to know what the heck I'm doing here in the middle of the night."

Lex shook his head.

"We can talk about that later, after you see the doctor."

Bruce's eyes flashed to meet his.

"Doctor? What doctor?"

"_My _doctor," Lex emphasized.

"Lex," Bruce's brow knotted as he spoke earnestly. "Nobody can know I'm here. If they do, you'll be in as much danger as--"

"That's the _last _thing I'm worried about right now," Lex cut in. "I've got a sterile room in the basement of this mansion, and my doctor is also a surgeon. We can take care of everything right here, including a transfusion, if that's necessary. And I'll have your bike put in the garage with my Porche."

"Mr. Luthor."

Lex turned to see James stick his head in the room.

"What?"

"Dr. Rembrandt is here."

"Thank you. Send him in." Lex turned back to Bruce and slapped his spare hand down on Bruce's forearm. "Everything's going to be fine. He'll take care of you. I promise."

Bruce nodded once, gifting him with a small, trusting smile.

"Okay," he said simply. "Thanks, Lex."

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

_There are a lot of Dark Knight spoilers in this chapter, so if you haven't seen it yet, you might want to read this later. :) But otherwise, enjoy and review!_

VVVVVVVVVVV

CHAPTER THREE

Lex shakily retreated to his office and washed his hands off in a bowl of water he kept there. The water turned scarlet and he shivered. As he dried his hands off on a white towel, he glanced up at the window. Daylight was rising into the gray sky. Bruce had been in surgery about twenty minutes--and the doctor said it would be touch-and-go.

Shaking away that thought, Lex turned and headed upstairs. Locking himself in his room, he grabbed black dress pants, a white shirt and black shoes, then quickly donned them. He bit his lip. He could not keep from thinking.

He had always known there was something strange about Bruce Wayne--his mysterious disappearance and then reappearance years later, the contrast between his public personality and the demeanor he kept when he was with people he was close to, and the scars he had acquired while supposedly doing nothing more than attending parties and sleeping late. Lex swallowed as he buttoned his shirt. But Bruce--the Batman? His chest tightened. Bruce was right--Lex had notexpected _that_. But now that Lex knew the man behind the mask, there was one thing that was certain: the media had once again mislabeled him. Batman was _not _insane.

Lex hurried back downstairs, then slowed when he realized he had nowhere in particular to go. He wandered back to his study and sat tensely, waiting with his elbows propped on his knees. The clock on the mantle ticked idly. Leaning back, he absently fiddled with the pieces of his glass chess piece as the hours drifted by.

At nine-thirty in the morning, Dr. Rembrandt eased his tired head into Lex's study.

"Mr. Luthor--he's waking up."

Lex quickly stood.

"Where is he?" he asked as he headed for the door.

"He's downstairs, in a recovery bed," Rembrandt answered.

"Thank you, doctor," Lex brushed past him and trotted down the stairs.

VVVVVV

"Hey," Lex greeted as he strode forward. Bruce lay on a white hospital bed, wearing a dressing gown, an IV sticking out of his arm. Bruce turned his pallid face toward Lex but managed a slow smile.

"Hello, Lex." He raised his eyebrow. "Looks like your doctor friend did an okay patch job."

"He'd better have done more than a patch job," Lex teased as he drew up a stool and sat down, clasping his hands in his lap. "I expect you to be up running laps around the mansion tomorrow morning."

Bruce laughed softly, closing his eyes briefly.

"Yeah, well, I'll do my best."

"You know I'm kidding, Bruce," Lex added. "You're free to stay here as long as you need to."

The joviality faded from Bruce's face, and he gazed at Lex seriously.

"I'm not sure you want that."

"No, what I'm sure I _don't _want is your death on my conscience," Lex countered. Bruce's mouth hardened.

"Really? Killing the Batman might be worth your time."

Lex felt as if ice was slithering down his throat. He stared at Bruce.

"And what do you mean by that?"

Bruce tiredly arched an eyebrow.

"You once told me that every man has his price."

Lex's lips tightened and he glanced down.

"Normally, I would agree with you, I'm afraid." He looked back up. "But I'm not everyman. And though I may not be Smallville's most honorable or straight-talking citizen," His jaw tensed and he stilled. "I'm incapable of betraying you, Bruce."

Bruce's mouth twisted.

"That's nice to know. I wish I knew how to inspire that in other people."

"Well, they don't know you like I do," Lex reminded him. Bruce snorted.

"You're right. Actually...you're the only one besides Alfred who does."

Lex blinked.

"Not even Rachel?"

Bruce swallowed, and Lex saw him turn paler. His gaze wandered away.

"No, she knew," he whispered.

Lex's whole body went even colder.

"I notice you're speaking in the past tense," Lex observed quietly. "Did something happen?"

Bruce's brow suddenly knotted again, and he twitched his face away as his eyes filled with tears.

"Yes," he said, and it was almost a soft cry. Lex's eyebrows came together.

"When?"

"Not long," Bruce said hoarsely. "A few days."

"What happened?" Lex asked softly. Bruce swallowed hard, closing his eyes. Tears ran down his face.

"It was the Joker. He killed her. And he nearly killed my friend on the police force, and destroyed Harvey Dent."

"Destroyed?"

Bruce opened his eyes, but Lex doubted he could see, for water clouded them.

"Dent was in love with Rachel," Bruce explained rockily. "When she died, and he was hurt, he lost his mind and killed several people."

Lex frowned.

"Wasn't he the one that all the papers were calling Gotham's White Knight?"

Bruce nodded.

"Yes. Which is why I took the fall for him."

Lex straightened.

"What?"

Bruce looked at him, suddenly weary.

"That's why I'm sorry I involved you, Lex," he said quietly. "I couldn't let the public see Harvey that way. He was their hope. And I'm...I'm whatever Gotham needs me to be."

"You mean you're letting them call you a murderer," Lex said bluntly. Bruce's eyes drifted shut.

"Yes."

Lex stared at him in disbelief, then suddenly noted his extreme pallor.

"I'm sorry, Bruce--you shouldn't be talking like this," Lex realized. "I'll let you rest."

"Thank you," Bruce whispered, his eyes still closed. He lifted his left hand. Lex reached out and grasped it, and Bruce squeezed.

"Get some rest," Lex recommended. Bruce just took a deep breath, and Lex released his hand. Lex turned to see Dr. Rembrandt hovering near the door.

"Treat him like you'd treat the President," Lex said firmly. "Let me know if anything changes."

"Yes, sir."

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

_Thanks for the reviews (although I could always stand for a few more ;) ) Hope you enjoy. :)_

VVVVVVVVVVV

CHAPTER FOUR

"Lex!"

Lex straightened in his desk chair and settled his hand down on the wooden surface, turning to see Lana Lang breeze into the room. She was dressed in black, with silver, sparkling earrings dancing by her cheeks, and her lovely face bore a ready smile. He stood up, still amazed at how the sight of her always made him breathless.

"Hey, Lana," he managed. "What are you doing here?"

"I haven't seen or heard from you in a few days--wanted to make sure everything was okay," she explained.

"Yeah, I'm okay," he assured her. But then he found himself stepping toward her. He slid his arms around her and gathered her gently but securely to his chest, ducking his head down to rest against her neck. He took a deep breath, which shook, and closed his eyes.

"Lex?" He felt her grip on him tighten. "Are you okay?"

He wanted to tell her that yes, he was fine--but that wouldn't be the truth. Bruce had been recovering for five days now, resting in the guest room, and when he was awake, Lex would go in and keep him company. Most of the time, Bruce was in strong spirits, and they would talk business, the state of the economy and crime situation in both Metropolis and Gotham, or cars, hotels and vacation spots. But once in a while, Bruce was tired and pale, and all he could speak of was Rachel--what a great D.A. she was, how pretty she was, and bright, and brave. Then, slowly, Bruce would shatter further, and all Lex could do was listen as Bruce insisted that she had been planning to wait to be with him until Gotham to no longer needed Batman--that Harvey Dent didn't really mean that much to her, that she had always been so patient. And last night, Bruce had chokingly admitted to Lex that he loved Rachel more than anything, and he had no idea what he was going to do without her.

Lex backed up and took Lana's face in his hands, running his eyes over her beautiful features and shining eyes. She almost said something, until he took a breath and held it, thinking. He cocked his head.

"Have you ever known someone that when you looked in their eyes you could never lie to them--and you'd rather die than betray them?"

Lana looked up at him and smiled softly.

"Yes."

He returned the smile.

"Well, I have a couple of people in my life who are like that. One of them is you," he touched her nose with his fingertip, then slid his hand down took hers, leading her to the couch. "And another is a good friend of mine from when I was a kid." Lex sat down, sighing as he leaned back. She perched next to him, her delicate brow furrowed.

"Did something happen to your friend?"

Lex glanced at her.

"You've probably heard of him--it's Bruce Wayne."

Lana's eyes widened.

"Yes, I have heard of him."

"He's been having a rough time lately. He came to stay with me for a while." Lex reached up and rested his hand on her shoulder, rubbing her skin with his thumb. "A girl he's loved for a long time just died this past weekend."

Lana's expression sharpened with sympathy.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "How terrible."

Lex bit his lip, nodding.

"So, I'm just...worried about him, that's all," he confessed. "And when things like that happen to people you know..." He gazed into Lana's eyes. "It makes you realize that the same thing could easily happen to you." He touched her forehead with his fingertips, then traced her lips. "And I doubt I could handle it any better than he is."

Lana leaned down and laid her head on his shoulder, wrapping her arms around him. A knot formed in his throat, and he returned the embrace. She took a deep breath. But when she spoke next, instead of offering him assurance that nothing like that would ever occur, she merely murmured:

"I understand," --which made Lex close his eyes and pull her tighter to him.

VVVVVVVVVVVV

"Well, Mr. Luthor, I thank you for your hospitality." Bruce Wayne stuck out his hand and Lex grasped it firmly.

"Your shoulders barely fit into that suit," Lex commented. Bruce took hold of his lapels and tugged on them.

"I know--I had to have help getting it on. But it's a sharp suit. You have good taste."

"Thanks," Lex grinned. Bruce lifted his eyes and solemnity overtook his carven face again. His lips tightened, and he nodded once.

"Thank you, Lex. I really mean it," he said firmly, his black eyes piercing Lex's. "I know it was a long way to come, but I had nowhere else to go that night.You saved me."

Lex swallowed.

"I couldn't do anything else."

Bruce's brow furrowed.

"Why?"

Lex chuckled slightly, glancing away for a moment before facing him squarely. He held his hands out to the sides.

"Like I've told you before, Bruce--you're my mirror. It's selfish, really, but I know that as long as you're alive and fighting, there's hope for me, too."

Bruce smiled wryly, sadly.

"Well, it looks like your mirror might be a little cracked."

Lex looked at him honestly.

"Hopefully not beyond repair."

Bruce's sadness faded, and his smile became more real.

"Let's hope so." He lifted a hand and turned to get into the black limo he was borrowing. "I'll see you later, Lex."

"Anytime."

Lex watched as his old friend gingerly climbed into the vehicle, and followed it with his eyes as it rolled down the drive and turned, soon disappearing over the horizon. Lex turned to see Dr. Rembrandt standing hesitantly near the door. Lex approached him.

"Well done, Doctor," he commended. "As always, you did an excellent job."

"Thank you, Mr. Luthor."

Lex moved to pass him, then turned to glance back over his shoulder.

"Oh, and if anyone asks you, Mr. Wayne was never here."

"Yes sir."

"In fact, you don't even know who Mr. Wayne is."

"Of course, sir."

"Good. Have a nice day, Rembrandt."

FIN


End file.
